


Cradle

by Leyenn



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyenn/pseuds/Leyenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rogue contemplates being in Logan's arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cradle

No one touches me.

It's not like I don't understand why, or that I hate them for it or anything like that. I mean, it's like those poor kids that have HIV - you're nice to them, friendly with them. You try to make them feel normal and happy, try to help them forget their problems. But you don't take stupid risks. It's just that the risk with me is touching, so no one does.

I get it, really I do. I understand. You wouldn't try to look Scott in the eyes, would you - I mean really look? Or stand outside in the rain if 'Ro were in a snit? Of course not. Just like you wouldn't touch me if you wanted to keep all of you inside you.

It doesn't bother me too much now. I'm just used to it. I have lots of friends here. It's not as if I'm a loner like some people. I try hard to fit in, to do things with the others, and they're really good to me. Kitty can even talk about my skin now, and she never used to do that when I first arrived, just went all quiet and uncomfortable-silence-like. Jubes never had a problem talking about it, but that's just Jubes. She doesn't have a problem talking about anything. We're getting close to real contact, I think, but it's still going to be a long time. When you're lonely in your own skin, even a second more is pretty much an eternity.

I sometimes think it might be easier if we weren't roommates. I mean, how can you feel safe with the idea of touching someone when you see all that naked death walking around your room every day? It's not like touch is a conscious thing most of the time. I've got enough psych 101 to know that - and anyway, it's common sense. Common sense that means no one's ever quite comfortable enough to get close, because they might forget at the wrong time - and then I'd get another set of thoughts in here. I'm lonely, but I'm not that lonely.

Yet.

I told him all this. Everything I'd never tell Kitty because she'd cry or Jubes because she'd go out of her way to be better and end up slipping one day. I don't want that, not least because I don't think I could handle Jubes up here with me and Logan and Erik and David. It's crowded already, and the sad thing is we're all just being as lonely as hell together. I think all teenagers are, anyway, and Erik and Logan aren't exactly what you'd call team players. Especially Logan.

No one touches me. Except him.

He got angry when I told him everything. Got fucking furious - his words - when I finally managed to get it all out. Not at me - never at me. He promised that, although not very politely I must say. Not that I mind. He cares, and all the swearing and furniture-breakage is just Logan. It's not like it could ever bother me, what with my occasional 'bub' and the cravings for that disgusting beer he likes to drink. I've got him in my head, and nothing he does surprises me.

Until he touches me, that is.

I don't think I'm going to get used to this. Don't get me wrong, I want to, because it's more than wonderful. To have someone's gloved fingers on your skin and arms around your waist; to have him actually hug you, actually make you feel that he wants you close to him, it's nearly ecstasy when you're as lonely as I am. It's just that if I get used to having this - letting him in and letting him touch me - I'll be lost to anyone else. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Okay, I know it wouldn't. But I know him, remember? Logan's a loner, a free spirit. A free devil, anyway. He doesn't need me clinging to him the way I want to, doesn't need to be the saviour of my sanity right now, but what's amazing is he wants to be. And the longer he holds on to me, the closer I get to letting go of the loneliness. Because no one touches me like he does, and it's just too hard to let that go.

The others don't like it. It's not hard to tell - Scott and Logan clash over everything, so I'm just one more topic for them to glare over. Jean looks at Logan like he's crazy now, and me like I'm some head case to be turning to him of all people. Hank's always impressively polite, but I can tell he disapproves, and I just leave the room when Remy or Bobby comes in now. The Prof... sometimes I wish he'd just get inside my head and find out what it really feels like in here, and then he could give the rest of them a piece of both our minds. They don't know, so I don't blame them, but I don't like them for it. One day, maybe I'll tell them everything... at least some of them. But right now their pity is more than I think I could cope with. It's one more knife in the wound, and I'm clinging to sanity as much as I'm clinging to Logan now.

See, touch isn't just physical - people don't realise that, and even the others here don't really know it. You wouldn't unless you were like me, and then you just wouldn't want to. Touch is like emotion, it's like reaching out with your feelings and pulling people close, making them welcome in your personal space. It's all about space, really, but no one notices that when they're living their normal lives. They get confused, not knowing that there can be a thousand miles between them even when they're skin to skin, just like I'm closer to Logan than anything even with my scarf and gloves and his thick leather jacket between us. They don't see it - they think it's enough just to put their hand on my arm, or force a smile, or try and make me feel part of the team. I am, I know, but it's not enough for me, for Marie. They could try for years and they'd never touch me like Logan does.

He's careful, of course, but he doesn't care about my skin - at least not more than he cares about any other part of me. He doesn't mention it, but I know he wouldn't hesitate if he had something to say about it. That's more than anyone else will give me. I'm comfortable with him. I forget everything else when he touches me - and he's warm, really warm, like his whole presence is just a big warm blanket around me. I feel like I could be normal here - in his room, in his arms, it's just... it's nice. That's sad, thinking that nice can mean so much now, but to me, it's better than anything. Logan understands. He doesn't say anything, but he knows that he doesn't need to. He's not exactly a cuddle bunny either, and if he ever had a connection with anyone else, he doesn't remember her. We're two lonely souls, I guess, even here with our own kind. It's never going to be the same with anyone else, and now, I don't think I ever want it to be.

Because no one touches me like Logan, and there's no way I can ever give that up.

  


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